


Gemini

by PinkLady80



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drag, Hockey Player Auston, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkLady80/pseuds/PinkLady80
Summary: Auston Matthews meets a girl.   And then a boy . . .
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Gemini

Auston meets the girl in May at a party where all guests are young and beautiful right before he leaves for Arizona, the loss to Ovechkin and his merry band of aggravators still burning through his veins.

He’s followed her Insta for a while, after mistaking her handle, HouseofMouse, for something about Disney Parks. Instead, Auston found a young seamstress documenting her way through Ryerson’s fashion design program.

The girl’s bio only says that this account is for “bitching about stitching” and she’s very on-brand. Her content is part running commentary on design theory, accompanied by random emojis, and part stressing about her assignments. This seems to involve a lot of pictures of her designs with arrows everywhere pointing out imperfections Auston can’t see.

He doesn’t feel bad because her other followers, mostly other people who sew, can’t see anything either. He does appreciate her attention to detail and drive to get better.

The girl doesn’t post many pictures of herself and nothing terribly personal. The closest is when she posts the looks she’s created for fun, not for class. There’s a flirty mermaid sitting on swing and a sweet tribute to an un-named great-grandmother who interpreted air reconnaissance photos for the Canadian Women’s Auxiliary Air Force during the Second World War. 

His favorite is a black and white photo taken from above. The girl’s hat is so large it hides everything except the edge of her dress, legs, and hands. It appeals to Auston’s chill, this hidden girl.

Tonight, he can’t stop wondering if the buttons on her long gloves are functional or just for show. Her legs go on for miles thanks to the exaggerated high-low hemline of her dress and stilettos so high Auston prays for the integrity of her ankles.

She accepts his offer of a drink and he her condolences on the Leafs’ unceremonious exit from the playoffs. As someone who loves clothes, he asks a lot of questions about her creative process. She talks with her whole body, long ponytail swinging, and topics of conversation veer off onto unexpected tangents. What starts out as an aside about the season’s “it” colors for men turns into the history of dyes and dying fabric.

By the time a distant acquaintance of Auston’s interrupts them, her abandoned Blood Orange margarita has been reduced to a pink, room-temperature puddle. 

The sound of their collective laughter is a feedback loop Auston wants to stay trapped in.

—

Auston meets the boy just before camp at Garrison Bespoke when he’s there to be measured for a overcoat.

The shop has a new wool-blend and the only person who has worked with is a cute boy with a big smile and beautiful eyes. Auston has to work hard to focus on the boy’s questions about how his weight changes during the winter and what story Auston wants the coat to tell, as the boy lays a yardstick across Auston’s shoulders and not the scent of his cologne.

While the boy is sketching out the coat, it gives Auston time to really look. His vest is peach and the sleeves of his dress-shirt are rolled up, showing off tattoos Auston can’t make out. His arms would properly be best described as gangly or coltish and add to the impression that he would blow away in a stiff wind. His hair looks very soft and Auston wants to know how it would feel running through his fingers. He tries not to think about the boy’s fashionable slim-cut trousers and focuses on his feet, watching the checkered Vans rock back and forth. 

He finds the movement hypnotic and startles when a sketchbook suddenly appears in front of his nose, the picture fuzzy because it’s too close.

—

The girl kisses Auston before he leaves for the All-Star game. It’s just a soft brush of lips against his cheek before she heads down to the subway and is hidden by the the faux-fur trim on the hood of her heavy coat.

He hopes the redness of his face can be explained away by the cold and wind.

—

Auston kisses the boy outside his tiny on-campus apartment right before Valentine’s Day when he delivers an impulsive gift, a new set of oil pastels and a sketchbook.

Everything moves in slow-motion as their mouths drift towards each other, the boy’s eyes dropping closed. He tastes like Red Bull and instant ramen. 

Auston would like to stay but he needs to be at the airport in an hour. Instead, he pulls the boy into his chest, promising to call when the team gets to their hotel in Edmonton.

In response, the boy curls his pinky around Auston’s.

—

Auston’s sisters meet the girl first at Christmas. Mama and Dad are on the cruise Auston gifted them last year, but Alex and Breyana continue their tradition of spending part of their winter break with Auston.

He buys three tickets to Ryerson’s winter student fashion show, where the girl is modeling two looks.

Her first has the feel of an old-fashioned Christmas card come to life. She’s wearing a long, red opera cloak paired with a white hat and muff and Auston can just see the skates she borrowed from him, hanging over one shoulder, peaking out from under the cloak.

Alex notices too and pinches him, as if asking for confirmation. Auston wonders what his expression tells her but she just looks deeply unimpressed and takes some video.

Auston waits impatiently for the last entry. The girl has been working on this dress since June. He had wanted to ask if she would visit him over the summer, but the idea had died in his mouth as she’d lay her head against his arm complaining that between this dress and summer work-study, her brain was going to melt and run out her ears.

The girl’s dress is fit for a queen, with it’s long, tight sleeves and the fabric in the back folding onto itself forming billowing train. The skirt is covered in snowflakes. Some are sewn into the tulle while others are beaded, twinkling under the lights, or match the white-metal snowflakes pinned in her hair.

Auston thinks she’s too lovely to be real.

The girl hasn’t eaten dinner, so after the show they grab a bite at a hole-in-the-wall diner that serves serves breakfast food and Chinese food all day. Neither the girl nor Auston’s sisters are ever at a loss for words but when he realizes they don’t need his help to keep their conversation going, something deep inside Auston loosens in relief.

—

His parents meet the boy in person for the first time in April at the start of the postseason. 

The boy graduates at the end of the month and Auston knows he’s stressed about his final project, a runway exhibition of his work. He’s reserved the room, ordered all the reception food, and paid a friend in wine to DJ. Classmates have agreed to model or assist behind the scenes in return for help with their own shows. Invitation responses, including the business the boy interviewed with, have been returned.

Expectations are high.

Today, the boy’s eyes look far away. Auston is sure he doesn’t register the way his hands move across his sketchbook or the smudge of charcoal on his left cheek. He wants to break pose, the boy had instructed him to sprawl in his favorite chair, to open his arms in hopes the boy will tuck himself close and together their worries will melt away under the skin contact.

Mama scares them opening the front door. Auston had forgotten his parents were arriving today and the boy kicks at him. How is he supposed to hug Auston’s mama when his hands are dirty?

When Mama and Dad leave three weeks later, the Leafs are out of the playoffs and Auston is exhausted and angry with himself. All of that gives way to pride as he watches from backstage while the boy and his classmates laugh, and yell, and hug each other before the boy goes out to take his bows before clamorous applause.

—

The girl belongs to herself and she flits in and out of Auston’s life like a butterfly. 

Auston loves watching her appear and disappear under the boy’s talented hands. 

How still the boy holds as Auston glues the girl’s eyelashes in place. 

The way she laughs at Auston when he squirms as she clips her stockings, he’s taking her to a club where the colors of the drinks are loud and the music is louder, and the dark promises he makes that will leave the boy trembling and exhausted but needing more.

He’s so grateful for her even though she isn’t fully what he needs. The girl says Auston should be brave because living a half-life is no life at all. 

The totality of what Auston needs makes him brave one summer day.

He’s been home for a week, his schedule filled with golf, training, media, and friends. 

His condo is too quiet. He feels less like he’s living there and more like he’s haunting it. He left part of himself behind in Toronto. There’s throbbing echo when the boy Skypes him in the evenings, telling Auston about the hats he’s designing for some bridesmaids and that he misses him.

When the boy lays a hand across the screen, Auston lines their fingers up, pushing back.

He makes it through another week but his heart isn’t in it. He uses being Auston Matthews to relocate his obligations to Toronto, kisses Mama goodbye, and leaves home to return home.

It’s a Friday afternoon and Auston knows the highly-exclusive boutique where the boy works will be slow, all the outfits delivered earlier in the day.

He feels out of place standing next to the ornate tea pot and tiny cups, shifting impatiently as the receptionist informs someone the boy has a guest.

Auston hears a door open, hears his name. Then his arms are filled the boy. Hands grab at his tee, his face is covered with kisses.

He’s sure this is something out of one of his grandma’s telanovellas but doesn’t care. This is where he needs to be.

Suddenly, his feelings are all spilling out. Three little words. When the boy touches their foreheads together and says the words back, Auston’s world falls back on its axis.

On their walk to the car, Auston hooks the boy’s pinky finger with his own.

—

The boy and Auston belong to each other.

Auston is still the boy’s favorite muse and he says the second best way to say “I love you” is to design something that helps Auston be his best self. 

It also makes the long trips easier to bear because when Auston packs his suits, he takes the boy with him.

Auston loves to come home after practice to sound of the sewing machine, bad singing, and conversations with their dog, a black standard poodle named Audrey.

Sometimes, when Auston hosts a team lunch, the guys invade the sewing studio to see what’s hanging on the forms and feel the fabric swatches Auston sent away for.

The boy isn’t bothered, his mind focused on his work and the music coming from his headphones.

The sewing studio is large and airy with wide east-facing windows that look out over the backyard. There are over-sized pads of paper clamped to easels and a cork-board mounted on one wall. Bolts of fabric line shelves while spools of thread, tape measures, pins, and pieces of chalk are tossed into wicker baskets. 

There are three sewing machines, each with a dog bed underneath, because the boy is Audrey’s favorite person. Auston can’t blame her.

The sewing studio is Auston’s favorite room. His heart lives here.

Hidden away at the bottom of the drawer for widowed socks and clothes Auston doesn’t wear anymore, is a small velvet-lined box. It holds all of his promises.

Auston and his boy belong to each other and soon all of Toronto will know.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own.


End file.
